The Stranger in the Bar
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: Ziva meets a mysterious stranger in a bar...


**This is my second crossover, and I'm not sure if I'll write another one (though I've always wanted to do a crossover between Tony and Dean), but I am a huge fan of NCIS and SPN and I just wanted to combine the shows.**

**So, yeah...**

**Warning: If you have not scene season five of SPN or season seven of NCIS then you are about to be spoiled (literally because there are spoilers). Just letting you know...**

**NCIS/SPN**

It had been a long, tiring day. Ziva just wanted to get a drink, unwind, and forget about work. Even for the night. She had no intention of 'hooking up' (as American's classily put it), but conversation with anyone _not _from NCIS would have been fine; especially if the person was NOT Tony.

She sat down at the bar, next to a dark haired, blue eyed man in a trench coat. He wasn't drinking, more like observing, and Ziva offered him a small smile as she ordered her drink. He didn't return it exactly, but something in his eyes told Ziva she could trust he wouldn't be hitting on her. It was good to know.

"Busy night?" she asked the guy after a long, drawn out silence. She wasn't one to initiate conversation, she mostly liked to observe and trust that the other person would talk to her (or back away slowly), but tonight she just felt like talking.

The man looked over at her, almost as if he were wondering why she was talking to him, but sighed and said, "It has been busier than the bartender would like." He said it so matter of factly, almost as if he knew exactly what the bartender was thinking. Ziva made to open her mouth, say something else, but the man kept going. "That man over there has been trying to propose to his girlfriend all night, but her voice box keeps ringing…" he trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing. "I meant cell phone.

"I am glad Dean is not here, he would remind me that I messed up again," he added under his breath.

"You mess words up, too?" Ziva asked glancing at the guy. It was nice to meet someone else who hadn't exactly grasped the American language. She wondered if he was from another country. Though he must have been here a while, his accent was undetectable. Ziva made to ask where he had come from, but he cut her off:

"Yes, Dean has told me several times that I am not going to blend in if I keep forgetting certain things. I apologize, that I do not have the time to learn every, little term out there." Ziva could hear the underlying bitterness in his voice; see the annoyance in his blue eyes.

"Tony is the same way," Ziva responded when she was sure the guy wasn't going to say anything. "He expects me to have every idiom down, but I have to remind him I know multiply languages, I get mixed up. It is no big deal to McGee or Gibbs, even Abby and Ducky, but he does not see that. And he is dragging Palmer down to his level…" she trailed off, realizing how much she had just shared with this stranger. It was so unlike her, but for reasons unknown, she felt she could trust this man.

"I am sorry," she said after a few seconds. "You did not ask for an explanation."

They fell silent; Ziva finished her drink, and ordered another. The man still hadn't ordered anything, the bartender sparing him a slightly annoyed glance as he passed him. By the looks of it, this guy had been here for a while and hadn't ordered anything. Ziva wondered if he were waiting for someone. Maybe this 'Dean' guy was a friend or co-worker.

"Does this Dean man work with you?" she asked carefully, sipping her drink, eyeing the man. She watched his face, detecting a few emotions flash in his eyes, before he took a breath and said, "In a sense."

"Is he your partner?"

"I am more like his…" the man trailed off, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he searched for the right word.

"Lap dog?" Ziva supplied helpfully.

"Yes," he responded with a nod. "But he did help me some, helped me see my…" he trailed off again, again looking as if he were searching for the correct word. This time, Ziva let him find the word on his own. "…_family_ was not who they appeared to be." It kind of reminded her of her's and Tony's predicament. In a way, he let her know just how corrupted her father was, adding on to her own suspicions to the point where she quit Mossad all together.

"Tony did the same for me," she said softly, looking into her drink.

"Do you have an emotional attachment to this Tony man?" the guy asked. If he had been hitting on her, Ziva would have to say that was the _worst _pick up line she'd ever heard (and she'd heard pick up lines in several different countries, in several different languages), but she knew he was only asking out of genuine curiosity.

So, she thought over the question and slowly replied, "He is my partner, my friend, so there is some kind of emotional attachment." She opted to use his term, not quite ready to stoop to Tony's level and correct every little mistake people made while speaking.

"That is all?" again, he was just curious, no sign of making a pass at her or anything.

"That is all," she responded slowly. "I mean, there was something, a while ago, but then some stuff happened and…" she trailed off, remembering Rivkin. Tony had shot the man in self-defense, but Ziva couldn't bring herself to believe him. She had been too blinded by... what exactly: Lust? Love? Anger? Now she could, but she knew something had been marred between them. Something they haven't exactly fixed yet, but they were trying their hardest to get back to where they were.

"What happened?" he wasn't asking to pry, he honestly wanted to know. It reminded her of when McGee talked to her. He gave her an opening to say what she wanted, but didn't expect her to give him the whole story.

"I was held captive for a period and was rescued by Tony, McGee, and Gibbs." And that was all Ziva was saying on the subject. She did not want to remember how Saleem and his men beat and tortured her for months, how she had pretty much given up when Tony and McGee showed up to get her. She tried not to dwell on the past but to remind herself she had gotten out of Saleem's clutches, she was free.

"These men, McGee and Gibbs, are they like Tony?" she knew he wasn't asking about their personality, but if they had the same kind of relationship with her as she did with Tony.

"McGee is like a brother," she replied slowly, thinking of how Tim had been there for her since day one. He was the closest thing to a brother she had since she killed Ari. "And Gibbs is like a father." And he had become like a father to her. He treated his whole team like his children. "They are my family."

"Dean and Sam are my family, too," the man commented off-handedly. "As is Bobby." Ziva did not know who Sam or Bobby (let alone Dean) were, but from the sound of his voice he would die for any of them. She would die for her team, her family, too.

"I do not have much family, anymore," the guy continued looking down at the stained counter. "I doubt I would be accepted into my family if I tried to go back. They are what keep me…" he trailed off again, Ziva couldn't help thinking he was worse at the American language than she was.

"Sane?" she supplied, taking pity on him after almost a minute of silence.

"Yes," he answered quietly.

"My family keeps me sane, too," Ziva stated quietly, taking a drink. It was scary, how much she had in common with this stranger. She never thought she'd meet anyone like her, another Tony (though this guy was quiet, pensive whereas Tony was more than likely to say what was on his mind).

They talked for a few more minutes, about nothing important, but were soon interrupted by a ringing emitting from the guy's pocket. He pulled his phone from his pocket, gave it a very Gibbs-like stare, before awkwardly flipping it open. "Dean?" he was quiet for a second. "I am sitting right…" he sighed heavily, the man on the end obviously interrupting him. "I will be there soon." He flipped his phone shut, again giving it a Gibbs-like stare (Timothy McGee he was not), and stood.

"I have to go," he said slowly.

"It was nice talking to you," Ziva responded throwing some money on the bar before standing also. She walked with the guy out of the bar. "I am Ziva by the way," she introduced herself once they were outside.

"Castiel," he replied after a few seconds hesitation.

"It's nice to meet you Castiel." Ziva held out her hand, noticing the look of uncertainty on his face before he took it. He let her hand go just as quickly, Ziva's phone ringing. She dug it out, checking the screen, Tony's name flashing back at her. She rolled her eyes, pressed ignore, and looked up only to find Castiel gone.

Ziva looked around, eyebrows furrowed, wondering where he went. She just shrugged, figuring his car had been parked close by, though she wasn't sure if anyone (even Gibbs) could drive that fast. Her phone rang again, she checked the screen, and sighed. She pressed ignore again, deciding to deal with Tony in the morning, heading toward her mini coop, her mood twelve times better than when she came to the bar.

And it all started with her talking to a stranger in the bar…

**NCIS/SPN**

**Okay, this has no back story, I just wanted to write a scene between Castiel and Ziva. I wasn't sure if it had been done, and I am not sure how in character they are(I don't write for them much). So, yeah.**

**Drop me a comment if you can, I do not own either Cass or Ziva, and thanks for reading...**


End file.
